Accustomed
by Lovingly Insane
Summary: Just another normal night for Craig and Tweek...and gnomes. Creek oneshot. I dunno. It's 2am and I'm in a writing mood.


_Ffft-ffft-ffft-ffft-ffft. Ffft-ffft-ffft-ffft-ffft. -ffft-ffft-ffft-ffft-ffft. _

_Oh, god fucking damn it, _Craig thought groggily to himself, running his fingers through his long black hair. He cracked open one eye, attempting to focus on the neon blue letters of his alarm clock. Three-thirty. Three. Fucking. Thirty. He groaned, burying his face in his pillow. He reluctantly sat up, his bones cracking and muscles stretching. He stood, the early morning air almost knocking him over. He rubbing his hands over his arms and walked to the door, opening it quietly.

Tweek Tweak was pacing. Not just pacing around in circles (which Craig admittedly did when he was frustrated), but back and forth in a straight line repeatedly. Craig, though suffering from lack of sleep, smiled at the sleepy figure that was walking so uniquely. Tweek's coffee-colored eyes were alert and frantic, twitching every now and then, and his blonde hair was messier than usual. He had a set of oversized green pajamas that were much too baggy for his near-anorexic frame. The pants, which were tightened to the extent of their capability, still pooled around his feet each time they hit the wood floor, and the shirt sleeves were sloppily rolled up to his elbows, still dangling low. Tweek never really focused on anything but the nearly black liquid that sloshed in his mug. He would take a large gulp every few seconds, shiver, and repeat.

"Tweek." It wasn't a question; more of just a statement.

"AUGH!" Tweek shrieked and jumped a good five feet back from his position. The coffee-filled mug flew through the air. Without blinking, Craig expertly caught it without any of the beverage spilling out. He only smiled at the shivering boy, handing the mug back to him once he was sure the spaz was stable.

"Tweek, what happened this time?" Craig approached him, sighing as if it were annoying. In all reality, though, this was just another night in their apartment, and Craig loved it.

"T-the…I-I…sleep…arrgh" He took an over-generous gulp of coffee and stared up at Craig with his huge, innocent doe eyes. "I got nervous."

A laugh escaped Craig's lips. "You're always nervous."

"Well, y-yeah, but….nnngh…" Tweek pulled at his hair, dropping the mug again. Craig caught it again, rolling his eyes and putting it on the table. "The gnomes…"

"Oh, Tweekers…" moaned Craig, closing his eyes. He pulled the shaking boy to his chest, slowly rocking back and forth. After a few moments, when Tweek's twitching had dulled, he pulled his chin up and locked eyes with him. "The gnomes are gone."

"B-but-!"

"Tweek!" He shouted, cutting off his rambling. "The gnomes are gone. Remember?" Oh, Tweek remembered. Craig had…well, long story short, Craig had basically committed genocide against Underpants gnomes.

"But what if they c-come back, and they f-find me and they try to attack me oh GOD what if they try to steal all my underpants I don't have that many pairs of underpants to spare they're, AUGH, probably really mad at me because we killed them off, oh, JESUS-!"

Craig silenced him with his lips. He hugged the blonde spazz tighter to him, moaning as Tweek rolled his feminine hips against his own. He slowly pulled away, staring at the now calm kid in front of him. The large eyes were shut, a content, sleepy smile crossing his face. He peeked through his lashes, blinking slowly. "I-I think I'm…" He yawned, his eyes shutting very, very slowly. Craig smiled and slowly picked him up. Tweek fell into a deep slumber fast, which was unusual, seeing as though he was such an insomniac.

As Craig carried the small boy to their bed, he thought about the strangeness of a sleeping Tweek. His light colored eyelashes fell onto the dark circles under his lids. He breathed slowly and softly through his slightly parted lips, letting out an occasional word or sentence. (Craig was happy to report many of the sentences consisted of 'Craig' and 'mine'.) But the really strange part was the absolute, dead _silence. _The silence was okay for Craig, who was usually blanketed by a wave of twitches, shrieks, and coffee crackling and brewing, but he found that he was _accustomed _to commotion. He was accustomed to the weird, spazzy, twitchy, innocent, doe-eyed freak he was proud to call his boyfriend.

He was accustomed to Tweek.

With a final look at said boy before falling asleep, Craig realized…he wasn't accustomed. That was the wrong word. He struggled, but, with a smile, said it, for the first time, out loud.

"I'm in love with him."


End file.
